What if this is Gods help?

“God is our refuge and strength, an ever-present help in trouble.”
—Psalm 46:1 NIV

I prayed one morning and asked God to help me. If I am honest, the help I wanted was an immediate solution. I wanted everything to be fixed. I wanted the heaviness to lift, the situation to change, and everything to be okay.

That was not exactly what happened.

Instead, God sent help in pieces. People were reached. My husband recognized what I was carrying. I was given little reminders and small things that helped me feel better. Writing helped me process what I was feeling.

None of those things completely resolved the situation, but I could see that God was answering me.

His help simply did not look the way I thought it would.

I think we do this often. We ask God for help, but we already have a picture in our minds of what His help should look like. We want an immediate solution, but He sends an open door. We want the pain removed, but He sends someone who notices us. We want everything restored at once, but He gives us enough strength, wisdom, or peace to make it through the next few hours.

Then we overlook the help because it did not arrive in the form we expected.

I originally thought God’s help would mean changing the situation. Instead, some of His help came through changing how I responded to it.

I wanted Him to remove the sadness. Instead, He helped me recognize it before I redirected it into anger. He gave me the awareness to understand that picking a fight with my husband or focusing on something negative at work would not address what was actually hurting. It would only create another problem.

That was help.

At first, I did not think praying or writing had worked because I did not feel better immediately. In the moment, I thought, I did the thing, and it didn’t work.

A few hours later, however, I realized that I did feel better. Everything was not resolved, and I could still feel some of the heaviness sitting on my chest, but I felt calmer and more hopeful.

The change was not instantaneous, but it was happening.

Sometimes we expect prayer to work like a switch. We pray, and we think the feeling should immediately disappear. When it doesn’t, we assume God has not answered or that what we did was ineffective.

But processing takes time. Healing takes time. Even peace can arrive gradually.

God was not necessarily saying, “I am going to fix everything for you right now.” He was showing me, “Here are some things that will help you carry this. I am with you while you work through it.”

I know God will eventually work everything out, but I also understand that I have to be an active participant in my healing and in the character development He wants to do within me. I cannot ask Him to heal me while refusing to acknowledge what hurts. I cannot ask Him to develop self-control in me and then ignore the opportunities He gives me to practice it.

Sometimes God’s answer is not immediately making us feel better. Sometimes His answer is helping us respond better.

He may give us the self-control not to project our pain onto someone else. He may send someone who recognizes that we are struggling. He may give us the words to write, the courage to be honest, or enough hope to take the next step.

The situation may not be resolved yet, but we are calmer, clearer, more hopeful, and better able to move forward.

What if that is God’s help?

What if the answer is already arriving in pieces, but we have been overlooking it because it does not resemble the complete solution we requested?

God’s help may not always remove the situation immediately. Sometimes it strengthens us, steadies us, and changes us while we walk through it.

That is still help and that is still answered prayer.

Until next time,

Dominique

Stop Fighting Yourself

I have said before that going through something is harder when you are pretending everything is okay. Not only are you dealing with what happened, but you are also using energy to convince everyone around you that you are fine. You are fighting two battles: the actual pain and the pressure to hide it.

But I recently realized there is another layer to this.

Sometimes we stop pretending for other people but continue pretending with ourselves.

We finally tell someone, “I’m not okay.” We admit that something hurts. We pray about it, talk about it, or write it down. But internally, we are still resisting what we feel.

I shouldn’t be this sad.

I know God, so why am I still struggling?

I prayed about it. Why don’t I feel better yet?

We acknowledge the feeling with our mouths while internally demanding that it go away.

That is still a fight.

Recently, I had to be honest with myself about what I was feeling. I realized that it is easier for me to be mad than it is to be sad. Anger feels active. It gives me something to do, something to criticize, or someone to blame. Sadness makes me sit still and acknowledge that something hurts.

My initial thoughts were to pick a fight with my husband or find something negative to focus on at work. Neither of those things was the real issue. They would have just given my sadness somewhere else to go.

But before I went down that rabbit hole, I stopped myself.

No. That is not what this is really about. You are sad, and you do not want to be sad.

That recognition was growth.

I did not create another problem to avoid the original pain. I did not dress my sadness up as anger and hand it to someone else. I allowed sadness to be sadness.

Accepting what you feel is not the same as surrendering to it. Saying, “I am sad right now,” is not the same as saying, “I will always be sad.” Acknowledging an emotion does not mean building a home there. It means you stop arguing with what is already true long enough to understand it, process it, and allow God to meet you in it.

There is a progression to honesty.

First, we stop pretending for other people and admit, “I am not okay.”

Then we stop pretending with ourselves and admit, “I am sad, and I cannot rush myself out of it.”

Finally, we allow ourselves to feel the emotion without letting it control our behavior.

“The peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.”
—Philippians 4:7 NIV

We often think peace that surpasses understanding means we will immediately stop feeling sad, worried, or overwhelmed. But perhaps peace does not always mean the feeling disappears. Sometimes peace means we stop fighting ourselves while we feel it.

Peace may sound like:

This still hurts, but I do not have to make it hurt more by judging myself.

I am sad, but I do not have to turn my sadness into anger.

I am struggling, but that does not mean God has abandoned me.

I can feel this without becoming this.

Maybe peace begins before the sadness leaves.

Maybe it begins when we stop demanding that the feeling leave before we are willing to acknowledge it. We do not have to bully ourselves into feeling better or manufacture anger to feel stronger. We can tell ourselves the truth, choose not to project our pain onto someone else, and give healing the time it requires.

Sometimes healing begins when we stop pretending with other people. Other times it begins when we stop arguing with ourselves about what we feel.

Either way, we can remove one of the battles by telling the truth: This hurts. I do not like it. But I do not have to fight myself while God walks me through it.

Until next time,

Dominique

What Changes When We Trust God’s Character?

All month we have been digging deeper into why we think the things we do about God. Whether it’s because we assign human characteristics to Him or we hold on to things that happened that didn’t actually have anything to do with God, our experiences can shape how we see Him.

But as we close this series, I want to ask a different question:

What would change if we trusted God to be who He said He was and do the things He said He was going to do?

That sounds amazing, but it also requires us to relinquish the control that we often want to hold on to. Trust is about letting some things go and allowing God room to work things out for us.

If God says He is an ever-present help, what would change if we actually believed we didn’t have to figure everything out by ourselves?

If God says He will direct our paths, what would change if we stopped demanding to see the entire route before taking the next step?

If God says He can do exceedingly and abundantly above all we can ask or imagine, what would change if we stopped limiting our prayers to what seems realistic to us?

And if God says no weapon formed against us will prosper, what would change if we stopped treating every difficult season like proof that something has gone wrong?

Trusting God’s character doesn’t mean life suddenly becomes easy. It doesn’t mean we always understand what He is doing. It means that when we don’t understand what He is doing, we can still trust who He is.

That’s the difference.

We spend so much time trying to predict outcomes, protect ourselves from disappointment, and prepare for every possible scenario. Sometimes we call it wisdom, but sometimes it’s really our attempt to maintain control.

Trust says, I can do what God has asked me to do and leave the outcome with Him.

That kind of trust gives us peace because everything isn’t riding on our ability to get it right. It gives us hope because what we can see isn’t the limit of what God can do. It gives us confidence because God’s promises aren’t based on how we feel that day.

God doesn’t exaggerate. He doesn’t make promises He can’t keep. He isn’t like people who change their minds, hold grudges, withdraw their love, or say things they don’t mean.

He is who He says He is.

Maybe the work isn’t convincing God to show us that He can be trusted. Maybe the work is learning to release everything we’ve allowed to convince us that He can’t.

And then living like we believe Him.

Until next time,

Dominique

Why Does God Feel Distant?

Scripture tells us that God doesn’t move. He is our ever-present help. But why does it sometimes feel like our prayers are hitting the ceiling?

How can an ever-present God seem silent when we need Him most?

And maybe the bigger question is: What do we assume about God when He is silent?

We tend to fill silence with our own explanations.

God must not be listening.

Maybe He doesn’t care.

Maybe I did something wrong.

Maybe He’s disappointed in me.

But God’s silence doesn’t necessarily mean God’s absence.

Our feelings are real, but they aren’t always accurate indicators of God’s presence. Scripture tells us that God will never leave us or forsake us (Hebrews 13:5). Psalm 46:1 describes Him as “an ever-present help in trouble.”

So when I feel like God is distant, I have to decide which one I’m going to trust: what I’m feeling in the moment or what God has already told me about Himself.

There also isn’t one explanation for why God sometimes seems quiet.

Could there be times when God isn’t giving us a new answer because He’s asking us to walk in what He’s already shown us?

Think about a good teacher. A teacher doesn’t give students the answer every time they struggle with a problem. Eventually, the teacher expects them to use what they’ve already been taught. The teacher hasn’t abandoned them. The teacher has equipped them.

Maybe sometimes we’re asking God to tell us something new when He’s saying, I’ve already given you what you need for this.

Other times, He may be developing our patience or teaching us to trust Him without constant reassurance.

And sometimes, we simply won’t know why He seems quiet.

That’s where knowing God’s character becomes so important.

When God feels distant, we have to resist filling His silence with assumptions about His character.

If I don’t know why God is quiet, I can still know who God is.

I know He is good.

I know He loves me.

I know He hears me.

I know He has promised not to leave me.

I know His character doesn’t change just because my circumstances have.

Maybe faith isn’t always hearing God’s voice clearly or understanding exactly what He’s doing. Sometimes faith is continuing to trust what God has already said when He isn’t saying anything new.

So the next time God feels distant, instead of immediately asking, “God, where are You?” maybe we can also ask:

“What do I already know about You that is still true right now?”

His silence doesn’t get to redefine His character.

His Word already told us who He is.

Until next time,

Dominique

Who God Is vs. Who We Think He Is

One of the biggest challenges in our faith isn’t believing that God exists. It’s believing that He is who He says He is.

We often read Scripture with our experiences in mind instead of allowing Scripture to redefine our experiences.

God says He is patient, kind, slow to anger, and abounding in steadfast love. He cannot lie. His ways are higher than our ways, and His thoughts are higher than our thoughts. Yet many of us unknowingly assign Him human characteristics because that’s all we’ve ever known.

If your parents gave you the silent treatment, you may assume God’s silence means He’s angry with you.

If you grew up believing love had to be earned, you may spend your life trying to earn God’s approval.

If people have broken their promises to you, you may struggle to trust God’s promises.

If authority figures punished every mistake, you may believe God is waiting for you to fail so He can punish you too.

But God is not like man.

Yes, there are consequences for our choices. Scripture is clear about that. But God’s discipline is never revenge. Hebrews tells us He disciplines those He loves, and He does it for our good so that we may share in His holiness. His goal isn’t to shame us—it is to shape us.

Before I knew God personally, I believed in Him, but I didn’t believe He was paying attention to me. I thought I was just another person in a world of billions.

Then I read that He knows the number of hairs on my head.

If He knows something that detailed, how could He possibly overlook me?

Another question I’ve been asking myself is this: Were your parents grudge holders?

Some people grew up in homes where one mistake was brought up over and over again. Apologies were accepted, but the offense was never really released.

God doesn’t operate that way.

“If we confess our sins, He is faithful and just and will forgive us our sins and purify us from all unrighteousness.” (1 John 1:9)

Notice what the verse doesn’t say. It doesn’t say He forgives us but keeps reminding us of it. It doesn’t say He forgives us but stays disappointed for a while. It doesn’t say He forgives us but makes us earn our way back.

When God forgives, He forgives.

Many of us continue carrying guilt that God has already laid down.

Maybe the greatest obstacle to knowing God isn’t that He is difficult to understand. Maybe it’s that we keep expecting Him to act like the people who hurt us.

The invitation of Scripture is to let God define Himself.

Not our parents.

Not our past.

Not our disappointments.

Not our assumptions.

So what do we do when we catch ourselves assuming God is like the people who have hurt us?

Pause.

When a thought about God’s character enters your mind, don’t automatically accept it as truth. Test it.

Ask yourself:

  • Is this actually true about God, or is this something I’ve experienced from people?
  • Can I find an example in Scripture that supports what I’m believing?
  • What has God consistently shown me about His character in my own life?
  • Am I interpreting God through my past, or am I interpreting my past through what God says about Himself?

If you think God has abandoned you, look at Hagar in the wilderness. God saw her.

If you think God is finished with you because you failed, look at Peter. Jesus restored him.

If you think God has forgotten you, remember Joseph. God was working even in the years that seemed silent.

If you think God doesn’t care about the details of your life, remember that Jesus said the Father knows every hair on your head.

The more we immerse ourselves in Scripture, the more we learn God’s actual character. Over time, His voice becomes louder than the voices of our past.

We all have experiences that shape how we see the world. But as followers of Christ, our experiences don’t define who God is.

His Word does.

Why Do We Believe These Things About God?

Over the last month we’ve talked about some questions many Christians quietly wrestle with:

Is God mad at me?

Is God tired of my prayers?

Did God leave me on read?

How do I hear from God?

While these seem like separate questions, I’ve realized they all come from the same place. They reveal what we believe about God’s character.

Nobody wakes up one day and decides God is annoyed with them. Those beliefs come from somewhere.

• Past experiences.

• Disappointment.

• Unanswered prayers.

• Relationships.

• Church experiences.

• Expectations that God never promised.

Before we can answer how to hear from God or trust Him when He feels silent, we have to examine the picture of God we’ve been carrying around. Because sometimes the biggest barrier to connection isn’t God’s distance from us, it’s our misunderstanding of who He is.

We will talk this month on how we put human characteristics on God or how trust changes everything. Do we approach God like a genie wanting him to grant our wishes but not deal with the things he asks of us? The more we know Gods word and know his character we can focus on what He says and not our circumstances. If you think God is mad do you move further away and distance yourself from him or move closer? He wants us to be close to him, so anything keeping you away is not him.

This is why we talked yesterday about reading your bible, you. can’t get to know God if you don’t know His word, you won’t know His voice.

We will dig deeper this month but in the mean time ask God to help you identify things that are keeping you from being as close to him as you want to be.

Until next time,

Dominique

Reading your bible

For the word of God is alive and powerful. It is sharper than the sharpest two-edged sword, cutting between soul and spirit, between joint and marrow. It exposes our innermost thoughts and desires. Hebrews 4:12 NLT

When I read Scripture consistently, it starts speaking to the very things I’m concerned about or praying through. Not in a spooky or mystical way—but in a clarifying one. Things surface. Patterns become obvious. Convictions get clearer.

I heard someone say once that when you read the Bible, the Bible reads you. It sounds a little strange at first, but I’ve found it to be true.

When I was thinking a lot about promotion and leadership, I found myself spending time in 1 and 2 Kings. Reading about the different kings in the Old Testament was surprisingly grounding. Over and over, I saw the same themes: leaders relying on other people instead of God, taking credit for success that wasn’t theirs, trying to please the crowd instead of obeying God, ignoring warning signs until it was too late.

None of it felt random. These were exactly the lessons I needed at that stage of my life. They gave me language for things I wanted to avoid and wisdom I could actually put into practice as I took on new responsibilities at work.

The key word here is consistent.

This isn’t about reading the Bible once in a while when something is wrong. It’s about staying with it long enough for it to shape how you think and lead and decide. I’m reading through a Bible-in-a-year plan again with my church, and it’s going well. It wasn’t perfect—there were moments when it felt shaky—but I paused, reset, and got back on track.

And that’s part of the process too.

Reading the Bible isn’t about speed or streaks. It’s about showing up, again and again, and letting God speak over time.

What might God be trying to show you—not all at once, but over time—if you stayed with His Word a little longer than usual?

How to Hear the Voice of God

One of my favorite posts I wrote in 2021 was about hearing the voice of God. Looking back at it now, I realize how much my understanding has grown.

For many people, especially those who aren’t Christians, the idea of “hearing the voice of God” sounds strange—maybe even a little crazy. They picture an audible voice from heaven or someone claiming God told them something dramatic.

But that’s not what I mean.

I believe God is speaking far more often than we realize. The real question isn’t whether He is speaking. The question is whether our hearts and minds are positioned to hear Him.

When I was first learning to discern God’s voice from my own thoughts, I relied heavily on a checklist I learned from Joyce Meyer’s book How to Hear the Voice of God. It was incredibly helpful because it taught me to ask questions like:

  • Does this line up with Scripture?
  • Have I received confirmation from trusted believers or unexpected circumstances?
  • Does this reflect God’s character?

Those questions are still valuable. They can protect us from confusing our own desires with God’s leading.

But over time, I’ve realized that hearing God isn’t about mastering a checklist.

It’s about maintaining a relationship.

Think about someone you love deeply. You don’t have to wonder if it’s their voice every time they call. After enough conversations, you recognize it because you’ve spent time with them.

The same is true with God.

The more time you spend with Him, the more familiar His voice becomes.

That doesn’t happen overnight. It happens through consistency.

Reading His Word. Praying. Sitting quietly. Obeying what He’s already shown you. Paying attention throughout your day. None of those things have to take hours, but they do need to become a regular part of your life.

That’s how you build the muscle of discernment.

Little by little, God’s voice becomes easier to recognize, and the other voices become easier to filter out.

The voice of fear.

The voice of your inner critic.

The voice of social media.

The voice of culture telling you who you should be.

The voice of comparison.

Paul writes in Romans 12:2, “Do not conform to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind.” Renewing our minds isn’t just about thinking more positively. It’s about replacing the world’s messages with God’s truth until His voice becomes the one we naturally recognize.

I’ve also learned that God often speaks in ordinary ways. Through His Word. Through conviction from the Holy Spirit. Through wise counsel. Through recurring lessons that keep showing up until we finally pay attention. Sometimes we spend months asking God for a new answer when He’s waiting for us to obey the last thing He already showed us.

God isn’t trying to hide from us.

He wants to be known.

But He also won’t force a relationship.

He’s a filler, not a forcer. He fills the space we intentionally make for Him, but He won’t compete with every distraction we choose instead.

That makes me think of Pharaoh. The Bible repeatedly talks about his hardened heart. God gave him opportunity after opportunity to respond, but he kept resisting. I wonder how often we do the same. Not because we don’t believe God can speak, but because we’ve allowed our hearts to become distracted, busy, fearful, or simply unwilling to listen.

If you’re struggling to hear God’s voice today, maybe don’t start by asking Him to say something new.

Instead, ask yourself:

Have I created space to hear Him?

Am I spending enough time with Him to recognize His voice?

Is there something He’s already been trying to show me that I’ve overlooked?

The beautiful thing is that God isn’t waiting for us to get everything right before He speaks. He’s inviting us into a relationship where, over time, His voice becomes more familiar than all the others.

Reflection Question

What voice has been the loudest in your life lately, and what is one practical way you can make more room to hear God’s voice this week?

Until next time,

Dominique

What If God Isn’t Silent?

Have you ever felt like your prayers were hitting the ceiling?

You keep asking.
You keep waiting.
You keep wondering if God is listening at all.

I’ve been there.

I first asked this question on the blog in 2020.

When I was praying to get pregnant, there were days I wondered if God had forgotten about me. I wasn’t questioning His ability—I was questioning His timing. Every unanswered prayer felt like silence.

But over time, I started asking a different question.

What if God isn’t silent? What if He’s waiting for me to pay attention?

What if the purpose of an unanswered prayer isn’t simply to delay an answer, but to deepen the relationship? We often approach prayer looking for information—What should I do? When will this happen? Why won’t You answer me?—while God is often more concerned with transformation. Sometimes the waiting reveals what we trust, what we’re holding onto, where we’re resisting Him, or whether we’re willing to follow Him before we have all the details. Instead of asking only, “God, why aren’t You answering me?” we might also ask, “God, what are You trying to grow in me while I wait?” That question doesn’t replace our prayers for answers, but it reminds us that God is just as interested in shaping our hearts as He is in changing our circumstances.

Sometimes we assume an unanswered prayer means God isn’t speaking. But throughout Scripture, we see that God often uses waiting to do work in us before He changes what’s around us.

Maybe He’s already answered, but it wasn’t the answer you wanted.

Maybe He’s asking you to take a step of obedience before revealing the next one.

Maybe He’s gently convicting you of something you’ve been avoiding because He loves you too much to leave you there.

Maybe He’s inviting you to spend time with Him instead of only bringing Him a list of requests.

Maybe He’s changing your heart so your desires begin to look more like His.

Or maybe…it’s simply not time yet.

Waiting is one of the hardest parts of following God because it requires trust when we don’t have clarity. We want answers. God often offers His presence first.

That doesn’t mean every unanswered prayer is the result of something you’ve done wrong. Sometimes the answer really is “wait.” Sometimes it’s “not yet.” Sometimes it’s “I have something better.” We should be careful not to assume every delay is punishment.

But unanswered prayers are an opportunity to ask honest questions.

Lord, is there anything You want to show me while I wait?

That question changed the way I prayed.

Instead of assuming God was distant, I started looking for what He might be teaching me. Sometimes He revealed an area where I needed to trust Him more. Other times He reminded me that His timing has never been late, even when it felt slow.

One of my favorite prayers comes from Mark 9:24:

“Lord, I believe. Help my unbelief.”

God isn’t intimidated by honest faith. He would rather you bring Him your doubts than pretend you don’t have any.

If you’ve been waiting on an answer, don’t assume heaven is quiet. Keep praying. Keep listening. Keep walking in obedience with what you already know.

The God who hears your prayers also knows the right time to answer them.

Reflection: Instead of asking, “Why hasn’t God answered me?” try asking, “What might God be teaching me while I wait?”

Until next time,

Dominique

Is God tired of my prayer?

It’s a thought many of us have had but don’t always say out loud.

“I’ve prayed about this so many times.”

“Maybe I should stop asking.”

“Maybe God is tired of hearing the same prayer.”

If you’ve ever wondered that, you’re not alone.

But Scripture doesn’t give us a picture of a God who grows impatient with His children. It gives us a picture of a God who invites us to keep coming to Him.

Isaiah 40:28 reminds us:

“The Lord is the everlasting God, the Creator of all the earth. He never grows weak or weary.”

If God never grows weary, then He doesn’t grow weary of you either.

Jesus even told a parable about a persistent widow to teach His disciples that they should always pray and not give up (Luke 18:1-8). Her persistence wasn’t a nuisance—it was an example.

Prayer isn’t something God tolerates.

It’s something He invites.

Sometimes we treat prayer like submitting a request. We ask once and then wonder if we should bring it up again. But prayer is a conversation, and conversations don’t end after one sentence.

As we continue to pray, something begins to happen.

We become more consistent.

Our prayers become more specific.

We notice where we’re trusting God and where we’re still trying to carry things ourselves.

That doesn’t mean the answer always comes when we want it to. But staying in conversation with God is never wasted.

So what do you do when you feel like you’ve asked too many times?

Pray again.

Not because God forgot.

Not because He needs convincing.

But because He told us to “pray without ceasing” (1 Thessalonians 5:17).

God isn’t rolling His eyes when you come to Him with the same burden.

He’s listening.

The next time you’re tempted to think, “I’ve already prayed about this,” don’t let that stop you.

Instead, let it remind you that God is always ready to hear from His children.

Keep praying.

Keep trusting.

Don’t give up.

Reflection: Is there a prayer you’ve stopped praying because you assumed God was tired of hearing it?